


All You Hear is Your Heart

by Pine (Rivek)



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-09-02
Updated: 2011-09-02
Packaged: 2017-10-23 08:37:20
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,471
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/248357
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Rivek/pseuds/Pine
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>AU. This was done as a request for someone else. The woman who requested the fic did it for an art exchange, and asked that Sirius work for the ministry in some fashion, and Remus work in a bakery/cafe. She wanted some romancey bits too.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Live Your Life, From Day to Day

Sirius Black, at twenty-one, was devastatingly handsome, and knew it. His hair was long and he kept it back while he was working, but in his free time it was lose and given to having a life of its own. He was the dashing boy, the dark sort who wore leather and smoked cigarettes. Women fawned after him; the witches who worked in the Ministry of Magic were always finding excuses to visit Sirius. Sirius flaunted the attention, revelled in it, but his flirting never progressed further than flattering compliments to sweep women off their feet. But Sirius never seemed more than half-interested in women. Sirius kept a dark secret.

Every day he walked by the same bakery, the sort with a few tables in the lobby so it could also pass for a café. Inside the café worked a man Sirius's age. He had brown hair that he squished under a hat, and large round brown eyes that seemed to want desperately to fade to a coppery yellow. He was pale, and terribly thin. But something about him always had Sirius watching, pausing only a second to catch a glimpse of the man as he laboured behind the counter. He always wore a white apron, and a grey shirt that usually had floury handprints decorating it, from hands touching the cotton. Sirius had no idea what pants he wore; he'd never seen him out from behind his counter.

Sirius would watch the man for just that one moment and then continue on his way, returning to a small apartment that kept his rent low and his bank balance high.

It was a cold January evening when Sirius finally went into the shop only a few minutes before closing. After a rancorous New Year Sirius had found himself with a resolution to talk to the man behind the counter in the bakery. The little bells attached to the door rang as he stepped inside. The air inside of the small shop was warm and inviting, it smelled like bread and warm cookies. Sirius took a deep breath.

"Can I help you?" said a nearby voice.

Sirius blinked, not having realized he'd closed his eyes. He opened them and stared at the owner of the voice. It was the man behind the counter. Sirius stepped further into the open room and once at the counter leaned forward. The man behind the counter leaned back to avoid coming nose-to-nose with Sirius.

"What's your name?" Sirius asked. Impulse control was not one of his stronger suits.

"Remus," the man responded quietly.

Sirius rolled the name across his brain once, twice and a third time to make certain it sank in. He smiled slowly and leaned back. "I'll have a dozen …well, a dozen pastries." He didn't even like pastries.

"What kind?" Remus asked, reaching for a box with the bakery's logo printed on the side. He set it before him on the counter.

"What kinds are there?" Sirius asked, raising an eyebrow. Pastry-purchasing was a great deal more complicated than he first thought.

"Well, we have old-fashioned, and there are of course jelly-filled, and-" Remus went quiet when Sirius held his hand forward, silencing him.

"One of everything." That sounded appropriate.

"We've more than twelve kinds of pastries, sir."

"Sirius," he corrected him absently and then frowned at his own impulsiveness. He forced a smile when he caught the other man staring at him with an open expression. "Just start over there in that corner…" Sirius pointed to the far end of the long glass case that held all the various pastry items. "Put one of each type in the box and when you reach twelve call it good."

Remus gave Sirius a quizzical look, and Sirius smiled in return. Once his box of pastries was gathered he paid for them, said a quick goodbye and vanished out the door. Sirius repeated this process over the course of several weeks. Returning every night to buy a dozen pastries of any variety and always asking Remus a question first. Sirius always showed up just a few minutes before Remus would lock the door and close down the shop.

Remus found himself at five till ten staring at the door, waiting for the dark-haired man to come strolling in. He would go through the motions of cleaning the rarely used tables, setting the chairs atop the tables in order to mop beneath them. And every few seconds he'd check the door, as if perhaps Sirius could slip through undetected. He couldn't, of course; the bells always chimed when anyone walked in.

Four weeks since Sirius had started visiting the shop, Sirius knew what colour Remus's pants were. He walked into the shop to find the man sweeping the floor, looking distracted. Remus looked up from his work, his cheeks rosy at their centres, and smiled at Sirius. He went behind the counter with out saying a word, and filled the box with twelve random pastries. Sirius asked him what his favourite food was that night, and Remus told him he was very partial to ham and cheddar melts. As Sirius was about to leave, Remus spoke up.

"Would you like something to eat?" He nervously fiddled with a piece of paper that was the receipt for Sirius's most recent purchase; he never took them with him. Remus stared down at his hands for a moment, his face turning a bright shade of red.

"I've just bought a dozen pastries," Sirius said.

"Yes, but I thought you might like a sandwich. No charge, of course. It's cold out there tonight." He struggled to make his sentences flow together correctly.

"It's cold out there every night." Sirius watched Remus carefully. February was not revered as a warmer month.

"Yes, but…It was just an offer. I thought you might want something to eat that wasn't deep-fried." Remus peeked at Sirius between a few spare strands of his unruly brown hair.

"Ham and cheddar melt," Sirius said, pulling a chair from one of the small round tables in the shop. He dropped into it and set his box of pastries in front of him.

Remus felt his heart stutter, he swallowed hard and nodded. He'd asked without thinking first, and now the man was going to stay. Remus carefully locked the front door of the bakery before he vanished into the back bowels of the place where all the cooking takes place. Sirius occupied himself studying the various pieces of art on the walls in the bakery. Nothing stood out; they were landscapes and periodically a rabbit or bird would bounce through one painting into the next. Sirius amused himself for several moments tracking a rabbit through various paintings with his eyes.

When Remus returned he had two plates, one in either hand. Both had thick sandwiches on them. Dark toasted bread and cheese that seemed to ooze over the sides of the bread, melted perfectly. He set one plate in front of Sirius and was pleased to find Sirius had set the other chair across the table for him. He sat.

It was the start of another month. For the following four weeks Sirius would buy his dozen pastries, and Remus would ask him if he was hungry. They would share ham and cheddar melt sandwiches and talk about their lives. Sirius talked easily, and Remus listened with great interest. Remus always left the two chairs from the same table down, waiting for Sirius. They would sit there till the night hours wore thin and it approached the mid of the night.

When spring rolled around Remus smiled every time he saw Sirius. There was almost no one in the shop, and when Sirius arrived Remus would lock the doors. They would share their dinner and revisit their various days. Sirius was never late. They stopped sitting across from one another, and sat side by side to share the details of their personal lives. It was a windy night in early March when Sirius first kissed Remus.

Sirius quickly pulled back away from the kiss, to apologize. "I'm sorry," he muttered.

Remus sat perfectly still, his body frozen from the moment Sirius's lips touched his. "It's fine. I don't mind." And he didn't. He was better prepared when Sirius kissed him again, even kissed him back. He closed his eyes and was surprised when he found his tongue was touching Sirius's, and that there were strong, firm hands in his hair pushing his hat away from his skull.

When Sirius stopped the kissing he kept his face close. Remus found himself only able to stare at Sirius's eyes. His eyes were like a March sky over the ocean, pure grey. Remus's heartbeat made his head ache from the way it echoed inside of his ears. Sirius was certain his own heart would claw its way through his chest at any moment. Then Sirius smiled at Remus, who returned the expression with a strange relief in his eyes.

They incorporated the kissing to their nightly routine. Mouths and tongues fighting one another with hands that ran nervously over clothed flesh. Sirius was the first to run his hand up the thigh of the other. Sirius would walk away from the bakery every night with shaking hands, and Remus would find himself bathing in cooler water.

It was mid-April with the moon high and nearly full in the sky that Sirius broke the tradition. He arrived on time as he always did, but when Remus locked the door, Sirius kissed him. He used a strong, thick muscle-corded body to push Remus against the simple wooden door to the bakery and pin him there with kisses. It bypassed the pastries, the sandwiches and the light conversation. Sirius's hand travelled up Remus's thigh but didn't stop there, he pushed it a little further north and ran his palm across Remus's groin. Remus made a strange noise in his throat and slid his hips away from the prying hand. He didn't stop however; his arms were around the man's shoulders and holding onto him made Remus feel powerless. That night there were no pastries and no sandwiches.

When the clock on the wall chimed midnight Sirius stopped kissing Remus. They were still against the door. Sirius's face was bright, and his eyes were lazy with something new that made Remus shiver to think about. Remus's face was red, his whole body felt warm and flushed. Both men were panting. The long strands of Sirius's black hair were tangled helplessly in Remus's fingers. Sirius had pressed his body, with a tight groin, against Remus, and neither was ignorant that the other was aroused.

"Tomorrow night…would you come home with me?" Sirius asked the question with a hesitation. Sirius was not used to asking questions of such importance when he didn't already know the answer.

"No," Remus responded, looking at Sirius with a shrinking gaze, as if Remus wanted to sink to the floor and hide. Tomorrow night was the full moon. The shop was always closed on the full moon; Remus had once offered some silly reason as to why. The truth was simply that Remus was a werewolf. And the full moon was a night when he lost himself to a more brutal self, his "inner demon". He'd worked hard to avoid showing his fear and nervousness when Sirius talked about his job. Sirius worked for the Ministry, more importantly he worked for the Ministry in the Magical Creatures Department. Here in the safety of the small bakery with the scent of fresh bread around them he had not let himself think too much on what it could mean. But out in the world beyond the wooden door, there was no pretending.

"What?" Sirius's brow wrinkled and his pale eyes stared at Remus in confusion. "Why not?" He was silent for a moment, and than took a step back as something cleared the confusion away and replaced it with a strange expression. "I see. Of course. This is just… OK. I understand."

The pain in Sirius's face tore at Remus and on his lips was a deep confession. He couldn't utter it; Sirius pushed him away from the door and pulled it open. He fled into the night, leaving Remus behind wishing he had the words to make him stop.


	2. Old Desires Mak Us Act Carelessly

The full moon came and went. And another. Remus waited the first few nights, set the chairs as they had always been, and waited till after the shop was meant to close. Sirius never showed. Remus would sigh as he put the chairs up on the top of the table, he'd whimper softly as he'd turn out the lights and leave the shop abandoned. What Remus didn't know was that Sirius came every night just the same, and would stand across the street and watch Remus through the front windows of the shop. He'd watch him put the chairs up, run the broom across the floor, and he'd watch him turn out the light and leave the shop a cold a dismal place.

It was three months and a night when Sirius saw something different on Remus's face. It was a cut that arched from the line of his hair across his brow to meet beneath his eye and back again to his ear. He could see the tiniest details in his memory changed by the appearance of the thick red line. He watched Remus struggle with a large bag of flour; it was nearly his size and probably weighed as much as the frail man. Sirius crossed the street for the first time in three months and a night.

The door to the shop hadn't been locked. Remus heard the bells as he struggled to move the bag of flour set there by burly deliverymen. He sighed and spoke in tired tones, "We're closed."

"How did you get that cut?" came a voice in response.

Remus was so startled he dropped the bag of flour. It split open on the floor and spilled out in all directions, making a white mushroom cloud pillow up in the air, coating Remus's clothing with a fine white haze. It did the same for Sirius. Sirius stood in front of Remus, his face dark and those pale eyes somehow a darker shade, unconcerned that the lower half of his black wardrobe was now grey.

"What- what are you doing here?" Remus asked, stuttering on his words as he stared at the figure. Sirius looked the same, though the expression on his face was new, there was anger in his eyes. Remus had memorized his face during their long talks about the things in life that only seemed to matter when your heart was singing. He'd given up hope of ever seeing Sirius again but yet he stood before Remus now.

"How did you get that cut?" Sirius asked again, his voice impatient.

"An… an accident." Remus offered. It was at best a half-truth.

"With what? A cookie cutter?" Sirius's arms folded across his chest. He wasn't buying it.

"I need to sweep this mess up." Remus ducked his head, keeping his eyes on the ground he tried to step past Sirius.

Sirius's arm shot out and caught on the adjacent wall, blocking Remus's path. They were close; close enough Sirius could see the way Remus's breath exhaled shakily. Remus could feel the heat from Sirius's breathing against his face.

"Why do you care?" Remus finally asked, raising an angry expression. His eyes met with Sirius's and he regretted it. The grey eyes trapped him, held him hostage in their gaze.

"Because you're perfect." The voice was softer than before, as if the anger had been spent and left behind something wounded inside of Sirius. He let his hand drop from the wall and come to touch Remus's face. It cupped along his cheek and stroked the rough surface that could use a shave, careful to never touch the tender skin around the injury.

"I'm not perfect." Remus said, but the words sounded hollow even to him. "Don't-" he said instinctively when he felt Sirius leaning in closer.

Sirius pulled back, letting his hand fall down to his side, though his body still inhibited Remus's path. "Why not?"

"You left." It was Remus's turn to look angry.

"You said no. I asked you, and you said no. If this is just about the kissing… why do you care if I leave?" Sirius had the same expression of anger on his face.

Remus's face faltered and moments later the anger had vanished, dissipated to something very much like shock. "Just about the what? How can you think that? I said no because I'm a—" Remus froze.

"You're a what?" Sirius leaned in closer, pale eyes narrowing to study Remus's face more intimately.

"I'm a…homosexual." Remus lied.

"I put that one together on my own. So what?" Sirius wrinkled a brow at Remus, and snorted. "That's not what you were going to say."

"What makes you so sure?"

"I can tell." Sirius tilted his nose up ever so slightly at the statement.

"You barely know me."

"I know you." Sirius's face came in close to Remus's, so close that they shared breath between them. "Tell me."

"I can't. You'll hate me." Remus whimpered the words as his hand reached up, with the intention of pushing Sirius away. But it didn't, instead it curled and clutched at the thick cloth covering Sirius's shoulder. He was rewarded with Sirius's hand on his waist, pulling him slightly closer.

"That's impossible," Sirius whispered to him, grazing his lips across Remus's. A tender kiss.

"Sirius…" He felt his knees weaken and buckle. He was caught in Sirius's strong arms, Remus's hands clutching at Sirius's shoulders. He was thoroughly kissed shortly thereafter, a heated mouth on his. Remus's words and his thoughts fell silent in the heat of the kiss.

Sirius's mouth opened and he pushed Remus's lips apart with his tongue. The kiss was deep and long. Sirius could hear nothing, not even the whimpers Remus offered into the kiss, his heart's thunderous beat drowned everything out. It echoed in every crevice of his body; he held tightly to Remus, kissing him hard enough to make up for the kisses that had been lost in the months between. He'd thought every night to come into the shop, but hadn't the heart to face the truth. He'd told himself he could live with it only being about the kisses, those long kisses shared with hands petting places they shouldn't. But he'd get to the street and his knees would feel weak and his heart would sink into his stomach and make it turn. Several times he'd thrown up in the bushes. He never could find the will to face it, till tonight. And while he'd come to find what the cut had been caused by, he knew that he'd stay to kiss Remus.

Sirius was the first to remove his clothing. He slid out of the long, dark overcoat. His hands loosened a faded silk tie around his neck. Pulling it over his head he cast it aside, undid the buttons of his shirt, one at a time, his mouth intermittently stealing kisses from Remus whose hands helped pull that shirt free of the belt and trousers that imprisoned it at the base. Halfway down the row of soft shell-coloured buttons Sirius pulled and ripped the last few so the shirt slid from his muscled shoulders easily. He was kissing Remus and working on the ties of the apron wrapped about his waist before long. He freed it of Remus, letting it fall to the floor thoughtlessly. Remus offered his own help then, tugging his own shirt over his head.

Sirius paused, looking at Remus sans clothes. He could make out the lines of scars that had once been open wounds long since gone. Some were more faded than others, suggesting a course of time. There were fresh lines, lines that matched the one that stretched across Remus's face. With a painful sigh Sirius touched Remus's shoulder, dragging it gently around a red scratch.

"Merlin… who could do this to you?" Sirius asked softly, stepping closer to pull Remus into a hug. The embrace pressed each man's bare chest to the other, and Remus felt a warmth and comfort he'd never known.

"Please," Remus begged into Sirius's ear. "Don't stop because of this. Please don't stop."

Sirius took a deep breath before he resumed his kisses: but they had changed, deeper now, more passion fuelling them. He was unforgiving in the way he kissed Remus, not giving the man a chance to catch his breath. Both men shed their layers, shirking pants, shoes and socks. Before long they stood quite nude, clutching at each other.

Sirius took the initiative, pushing on Remus to back him up. Remus gave in, slowly stumbled backwards, only to have his foot caught on the seventy-pound bag of flour, sending him crashing down to the ripped package. He held tightly to Sirius, who fell atop him.

Remus panicked and stumbled out some sort of apology. "I'm…I'm…" His mind was jumbled; his thoughts had all turned to fragments instead of complete sentences. He could feel Sirius so close to him he could sense the heat from his body. His thighs were aware of Sirius's hard length pressing along them as they shifted in the tangled mass. Remus tried to push himself up right but the weight of Sirius held him still and his hands sank into the flour exposed by the rip in the bag.

"Shhh." Sirius cooed into Remus's ear. He pushed forward and Remus fell back, half-lying across the bag.

Remus raised his hands to touch Sirius, leaving white prints along the man's smooth flesh. When Sirius touched him the faded prints were barely noticeable against Remus's pale skin. They showed in his hair when Sirius ran his hand through the strands. They were kissing again, and Sirius was moving atop Remus, rolling his hips back and forth against him. Remus felt the friction between his thighs the most, he was hard and his stiff cock was pressed between his body and Sirius's. He cried out helplessly into Sirius's mouth.

Sirius took it as encouragement, sliding his fingers around the man's thickness to stroke him. The flour that had sifted through his fingers left a powdery residue soft as satin on Remus's skin. Sirius pulled Remus's thighs apart, wrapping them around his waist. He knelt on the bare floor, it ached in his knees but the pain was secondary to the burning hormones. His mouth took Remus's body prisoner. Running along his cheeks, down his neck and over his shoulders. The kisses left Remus panting and powerless.

It took several tries to gather enough spit on his cock to make it slick, the flour interfering with the process. When Sirius's hand could slide easily up and down his penis, he let himself touch Remus with that same hand. He put it on Remus's hip and held him steady. He pushed against him, once, twice and a third time blindly. He gave in and used a hand to help guide himself. When the head of his cock pushed inside of Remus, Remus cried out. It stretched him, and Remus's legs shook, pushed away from his body awkwardly by Sirius's hands and hips.

It was a long moment before Sirius was fully inside Remus. His hands were uneven when they touched Remus's hair, sliding through the flour-dipped mess; his mouth running kisses along Remus's lips. Both men moaned in unison when Sirius started thrusting into him. It was slow at first, pulling in and out of him with careful precision.

Sweat gleamed on both, the flour stuck to Remus all the more. They moved together, each pressing against the other, creating a rhythm. The pace became more frantic the longer they held their bodies together in such a way. Remus called Sirius's name over and over again when the man turned his kisses away from Remus's mouth and to his shoulder. The night absorbed them, tucked away in the sanctuary of the bakery, the bag of flour moulded and compressed to the shape of Remus spread across it. The tears that had first spilled the powder across the floor ripped further and more flour seeped and slid to the polished surface of the floor and even across sweaty bodies. Sirius moved harder, pushing deeper inside Remus and pulling back further. It lasted a few more moments before the tenderness was abandoned. Remus didn't hide his noises in his throat; he let out moans and calls into the open air with abandon. Sirius pumped him, harder and faster. With every plea Remus made into Sirius's skin for more, Sirius gave it to him.

Remus came with a scream, curbed only when his teeth clenched down on Sirius's shoulder. His powerful jaws bruised the flesh as he held tightly to Sirius, body spasming and his cock jerking with each shot of come that spilled from it to splash on his stomach. Sirius was not far behind him. His dark head tilted back and he groaned loud and long as he came inside Remus.

When it was over, Sirius sank against Remus, laying his head on the man's chest and struggling to catch his breath. Remus wrapped his arms loosely about the man's shoulders to offer him warmth as the cooler air began to seep in. His copper eyes closed and he whimpered, sucking air into his lungs rapidly and desperately.

Sirius lifted his head and looked down at him. His frown reflected his confusion. A flour-coated hand reached up and ran beneath Remus's leaking eyes tenderly. He wiped away a stream of tears, leaving behind a streak of white. "Don't cry. I won't go away again." He'd make any promise necessary to stop the pain on Remus's face, a pain that made his soul hurt deeply.

Remus forced a weak smile on his face. "I have to tell you…" His voice faded out as his bit his lower lip.

Sirius shifted, drawing himself up to look down at Remus. His shoulder was sore, bruised and aching with the use of the tender muscles where Remus had bit him, though no skin was broken. "Tell me what?"

And so the conversation Remus had dreaded from the moment he'd started speaking at length with the dashing wizard began. On the floor of the bakery, covered in flour and sweat, smelling of sex and his body still drunkenly reeling from it, Remus told Sirius the hardest truth in the world. Sirius listened but the words were distant, a faded sort of sound, and all Sirius could hear was the beating of his heart.


End file.
